The denial (WIP)
by therealheirofslytherinthistime
Summary: Tom Malvolo Riddle was not your ordinary man, as most men would not be considered a mixture of charming, intelligent and handsome even in the wizarding world. Most men also didn't lead revolutions to overthrow the government either, but if you'd of told this to his fiancee, she'd of laughed and said you were being ridiculous.
1. Initial stirrings

The first stirrings – Early December 1965

Tom Marvolo Riddle – otherwise known as the Heir of Slytherin – was sat in his front room, the news quietly droning on in the background, but he wasn't listening to it too hard as his attention was focused on his fiancee. She was lounging next to him, her head resting on his shoulder as she told him about her day, something they always did at this time.

"Is something wrong?"

She asked him, noticing that he seemed more distant than usual and he turned to her, making an effort to smile even though it was strained. He'd never tell her what was bugging him, not with this anyways. He'd left that all behind several years ago, and now dismissed his previous actions by putting it down to being young and misguided, although he'd kept his horcruxes intact.

"No, not really." He lied, although for once not very convincingly "I think I'll take a shower though."

She nodded, not buying into it but realizing that he likely wanted some space to think over whatever it was. He never liked to burden her with his own issues, and even though she'd of liked to be able to help him resolve them, she knew he was more than capable of handing things on his own.

He'd tried over the last few years to ignore his frustration with the wizarding world along with his contempt of how he had to pretend to be unimportant, to repress and hide what was in his blood. But he'd done it: for her, there was little he wouldn't of done, and he knew it was for the best. It'd only cause problems if she and other people knew, and he knew he should be happy with his situation. He lived in a prestigious house that he shared with his fiancee, they had a nice relationship, his job was comfortable... and yet he couldn't help but what something more, something to break the monotonous stifling. He broke away from such thoughts as he forced the water to be cold, hoping it might help in some fashion, despite knowing it was rather foolish to think as much.

Not wanting to worry her, he walked down to dinner, his hair mostly dry and combed back. Sitting down, she placed a plate of food in front of him and gently asked him if he was feeling better, as if she was worried what the answer might be. Smiling reassuringly, he thanked her for the meal and lied with far greater aputitude than previously, and she seemed to fall for it as her face softened with relief.

"My parents are coming over next week Tom. I know you're quite busy with work at the moment, but..."

It'd taken him ages to not inwardly bristle at people calling him that, even if everyone did, considering no one knew the link between Tom Riddle and the Slytherin bloodline. Taking another bite of his food to avoid immediately answering, he nodded, saying he would make time. After all, it wasn't like he had anything else to do.


	2. A New Family

One week later – December 1965

Tom smiled politely as he held the door open for her parents: two posh aristocrats, the man quite short with grey receding hair, while the woman was tall and haughty with an almost permanent sneer on her rather pointed face. It astonished him sometimes how two such people could have an attractive looking daughter, but he naturally didn't say this to their face. They briskly acknowledged him before turning to Astrid, and the three shared kisses on the cheek before they went further inside.

Shutting the door softly was an effort, as it was tempting for him to slam it. He knew her parents didn't approve of him: he was a half blood orphan, whereas they'd wanted her to marry a pure blood worthy of her. That very thought had him snorting lightly, and he followed them into the conservatory where a house elf was already serving them drinks.

"So Tom" her father, Alexander, drawled "How are things at work?"

It always came down to this. Although most would assume that ones in-laws would approve of them having a job, they thought he should be able to support her without needing to work.

"Fine." He replied with ease. Astrid leaned forward, her blonde hair falling around her face slightly as she turned to fully face her father.

"He's been selected for a promotion father."

She said proudly, glancing at her fiancee as he tightly smiled back, and her parents raised their eyebrows at each other in distaste. Asking what that entailed, Tom respond, looking the other man briefly in the eyes before returning to his drink.

"They've decided that I would be more suited to management than working under it."

Mary and Alexander both gave fake congratulations and he almost scowled, as he couldn't stand people being openly false. Almost, but not quite as he moulded his face to be polite and grateful for their fake praise. He actually quite enjoyed his work when he wasn't being swamped in regulations, as it was one of the very few things he had allowed himself to continue doing from his past. While he'd left Borgin and Burkes after getting what he'd wanted four years ago, he'd continued in that line of work, just in a different setting.

They left several hours later, just as the sun was beginning to set over the distant hills. Being wizards, living in a countryside village wasn't a problem for them, and neither of them enjoyed city life.

"I'm sorry about them."

She said to him after he'd walked into the garden to look across the fields, and he grimaced at her. He was used to it by now, but that didn't mean he enjoyed it, and he wished she'd stand up for him to them. Her not doing so made every pointed comment and look all the more valid, but he knew it wasn't easy for her to stand up to her parents, especially considering she was over a decade younger than him.

"It's alright. I'll be in soon."

A dismissal, even if a polite one. Pursing her lips slightly, she left him to watch the sky fade from blue to purple to black, locked within a personal battle that she remained completely unaware of.


	3. Unexpected Visitors

As the days passed and the snow began to fall, he helped Astrid decorate their house. The tall windows had the long curtains drawn across them to keep out the cold even as magic kept it permanently heated, and wreaths of mistletoe and holly now adorned them. Tinsel was wrapped around the rooms, and a tall white tree now stood in their front room, red decorations hanging from it. Several presents sat under it, some from him and a few from her. However, even with this, Tom wasn't feeling in much of the Christmas spirit.

In fact, as he laid in bed with Astrid asleep next to him, he couldn't sleep, but not from excitement. Glancing at her, he shifted into a snake and slipped out of the room, not wanting to wake her. Going onto the balcony he changed back, the gentle wind stirring his hair slightly.

"Well this is great."

Although he could understand parseltongue, he was able to discern that Salazar was speaking it since it'd been so long since he'd heard it. To further to remind him what he would always be, even in this new life. He didn't turn to face the ghost, but he knew Salazar had been watching him from afar for quite some time. Must be one of the perks of being a ghost, Tom reasoned.

"You shouldn't be here."

He responded, the first time he'd used still looking over at the sky so he didn't have to face his ancestor. The ghost snorted, flouting next to him.

"Why? Because she'll find out?"

He confirmed the ghosts reasoning and he sighed, shaking his head. Studying his heirs face in the moonlight, he saw the face of a man that could rule the world, if only he put his mind to it.

"Oh Voldemort. You have truly lost your way."

Tom snapped round to face him, but he'd already gone. Calming down, he padded back inside and lied down once more, attempting to sleep but finding it difficult.


End file.
